Dichotomy: Darkness and Light
by Lidandra
Summary: Everyone is entitled to the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness? What if you find it, and all these "rights" crumble around you. Nothing is as it seems, and Selena de La Cruz learns this lesson the hard way... OCxTyki Rated T for mildly adult language
1. In The End

It was a fine summer day that I first laid eyes on Lord Tyki Mikk. He was handsome, suave, and confident. Completely assured of his place in this world. Looking back on my thoughts now, everything seems incredibly ironic. The fact that his veneer of confidence and trustworthiness was a lie. The fact that his handsome face harbored the mind of a grotesque demon. The fact that I felt an admiration for this sinfully seductive creature.

Ironic.

Were I not born Selena de La Cruz, I would have blamed Tyki for everything that happened. I would hate him, were I born a weaker woman. But, as a woman of honor and respectability, I have found it within myself to forgive, but never to forget.

My dearest Lord Mikk, why could we not have been born in a different world than this? A world without the Noah, without exorcists, without this damned "holy war!" Could we have found peace together? Could we have been content?

The most ironic occurrence was my falling for you, dear Tyki. I, a woman of valor with bones of steel and a mind of gold, fell not only into your arms but into the deep, ensnaring chasm of love.

You, Tyki Mikk, are my heart.

And I am a fool.


	2. Back to the Beginning

"Honestly maman, why must I go? Events such as these do not suit me at all!"

"Enough ma petite fleur! Such whining has to place in our home! A man of considerable standing has invited us. To decline would cause uproar."

"For you and Papa maybe. But that still doesn't explain why _I_ must go!"

Jeannette de La Cruz pointedly ignored her daughter's outburst. Instead, she answered her grievous attitude with a sharp tug on the corset she was so graciously adjusting for her daughter. Her action earned a satisfying gasp from Selena and brought a smile to Madame Jeannette's face.

"You are of age little one. You must be presented to society. And at what better venue than a grand palace owned by a distinguished earl!"

Selena, who had recently become thirteen years old, pouted at her mother's explanation. There was a time when she had loved dances and balls and such, but the upper class politics, even among the children, drove her away. She couldn't care less about the boating fiasco of the Trusdales or of the rebellious son of the Sampsons. The pettiness of such trifles was beneath her and her mother for that matter. So why was it her mother insisted on such tomfoolery? There are far more productive things to be done!

"But maman-"

"No buts! If your father can muster the courage to go, so can you. Now, head over to the vanity. We must fix your hair."

Selena grumbled but consented to her mother's command. She set in the vanity chair and stared into her reflection. She saw a young girl of obviously mixed heritage. Her fair skin reflected her mother's French pallor yet her wavy, black hair, a gift from her Spanish father, gave her the illusion of being paler than she was. That aspect accompanied with her sky blue eyes gave her something of an otherworldly air about her. Something that made her unique and different.

She could never stand to think of herself as beautiful. Her face was not classic enough. Her eyes too penetrating. Yet the adjective had been casually tossed at her all her life. Was it the prominent cheek bones that complimented her heart shaped skull? Maybe it was the fullness of her lips or the arch of her eyebrows. No matter the reason, she would never see the same reflection as others would. She would always view a different perspective.

Her mother's delicate oval face passed into view as she set to work on Selena's hair.

"Cheveux comme les vagues noires," Jeannette mumbled as she gently raked through Selena's hair. This phrase, hair like black waves, was a familiar one used by Selena's mother since the day of her birth. It soothed the tension in Selena's shoulders and placated her angered mind. Soon enough she had closed her eyes and lost herself in the routine feel of her mother's fingers braiding her hair.

A few minutes passed and there was a knock on the door. "Mis amores, may I come in?" Madame Jeannette opened the door to reveal Miguel de La Cruz, faithful spouse of Jeannette de La Cruz and loving father of Selena. Selena, as always, felt a small jolt of joy upon seeing her father's lightly bearded face. He was a man who embodied the term vivacious as he walked through life like a small, earth-bound star amidst the dim, gloomy lanterns of those around him. His passion and fervor inspired Selena to become most of what she is, and as such, she shares a deep bound with Señor de La Cruz.

"Ah, I see you finally decided to crawl out of your hiding place. Just look at you! Completely unprepared for the ball!"

Jeannette chastised Miguel ruthlessly—hands on her hips, stance stern—yet her eyes betrayed a forgiving amusement at her husband's antics.

"Sí, belleza, I've decided to reveal myself. I've tried dozens of times to get this corbatín straight and failed each time. ¿Puedes ayudarme mi amor?"

"Hmph. It would serve you right if you choked…" Despite her condescending words, Jeannette walked over to Miguel and adjusted his bowtie. As she worked the two of them traded words in the easy bantering fashion familiar to Selena. She watched her parents fluidly transition from French to Spanish to English and back again. As she gazed at her parents Selena took note of their joyful demeanor. Her father, Spanish by birth, had wavy black hair that fell to his shoulders in a voluptuous cascade. His face was well sculpted with a chiseled look set in his strong chin. The strength of his facial structure sharply contrasted with the laugh lines that littered his face and his calming brown eyes that set people at ease. Her mother, whom she takes after greatly, had a delicate air about her, as if she were made of glass. Her blonde hair fell down her back and reflected the light of the sun beautifully. Other than the ovular structure, Selena and her mother shared the same facial features, and in the event that Jeannette de La Cruz were to laugh—as she was now—she would appear stunning.

"And look at you florita. ¡Qué bonita!"

Selena's wandering mind returned to the conversation at hand. Upon hearing her father's words she scowled. He knew how much she hated the formal dress appropriate for regal dances. In direct response to her father's praise Selena crossed her arms and looked away.

"Now now Selena, there's no reason to be rude. You really do look beautiful mi hija. Let's you and I bear through this night, eh? After all, at least the food will be good."

At this phrase Selena's frown wavered into a small smile. Her father often said this when he had to go to a much loathed event. "We have to help with Consuelo's shores, but the food'll be good." "I have to stay late at the station, but the food'll be good." "¡Madre de Dios Jeannette! We have to go see your mother? …Well, at least the food'll be good." And so on. Jeannette, who also knew the meaning to the phrase, lightly smacked her husband on the arm with her gloves.

"Stop that! These events are very important and, contrary to popular belief in this house, have the capability of being enjoyable!"

"Yes, because chattering with girls who have pig's feet for brains is jolly good fun," Selena muttered.

Jeannette looked upon her daughter with a shocked countenance. "Selena! Watch your tongue! Have I taught you nothing of manners?"

Controversially, Miguel could not help but laugh at his daughter's witty insult. Pig's feet? Hilarious!

"Calm down ma petite. 'Twas but a jest. You can't deny that those girls truthfully have something lacking in realms of intelligence."

Jeannette could not, in fact, deny this, so instead she picked a different topic to address. "You know, Miguel, that the reason for our daughter's inherent rudeness and utter hatred of society are only encouraged by your words. Not to mention you so called 'self defense' instructions are slowly changing Selena into a boy, and a brutish one at that! Next thing you know you'll have her wearing trousers!"

Miguel and Selena exchanged a brief, guilty look and quickly looked away, avoiding Jeannette's eyes.

"You… YOU HAD HER WEARING TROUSERS?"

"It was for training mi amor. She does not do so often."

"Training! The nerve! 'Ella será fuerte mi amor.' She will be a man is what you meant!"

"Maman, fighting in a dress is just inconvenient. I'm not becoming a man."

"Hah! So you say." Jeannette glanced at the miniature grandfather clock as it chimed two times. "Enough of this, we will discuss it later. We must hurry or we will be late." She scurried out of the room to tend to herself, leaving her greatly relieved loved ones behind. Selena looked over to her father and a look passed between them. Miguel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"No training for a while?"

"No training for a _while _Papa."

They smiled as the remembered Jeannette's previous tantrums over such matters. Once again a wave of relief hit them due to the fact that things could have gotten much worse.

"Ma petite. Don't forget to finish your hair," Jeannette shouted from across the hall. Miguel smiled at that and turned toward the door. "I'll leave you to it then to be positive, eh?" He left a shut door behind.

Selena looked back into the vanity mirror to inspect her mother's handiwork. She saw a half-finished array of intertwining braids. She then set to work to finish her mother's work and mentally steel herself for the event to come.

* * *

><p>The de La Cruz family arrived promptly at fifteen minutes part the hour of three. They presented a stunning demeanor of amiability, despite the unhappiness of two members, dressed in a beautiful combination of blue and gold attire. After stepping from their carriage, they sauntered up to a grand mansion with gilded doors adorning the front. A servant scurried to open the large barrier that no doubt withheld then from a grand foyer.<p>

As they stepped into the reception area the de La Cruzes were met with sounds of pompous laughter and complex music. The man who had opened the door for them called out in a booming voice "Jeannette, Miguel, and Selena de La Cruz." Most of the patron the announcement while others glanced their way with looks ranging from distaste to amusement.

They calmly ignored the eyes watching them and walked through the large foyer. Selena had known that there would be people whom she disliked in attendance but she had never guessed so many would gather here.

She and her family had nearly made their way through the foyer when a familiar delighted squeal met their ears. "Jeannette! Comment allez-vous mon ami? It has been too long!"

"Ah! Isabel! I am wonderful my friend. How are things with you?"

The two women embraced and chatted rapidly in French. Selena did not mind Isabel LeBeaus' presence. She was one of her mother's oldest friends and had condoned her marriage to Miguel and for that she had earned the respect of their family. However, she had a tendency to look down on people which did not endear Selena. Even then Selena did not hate Isabel, she hated her husband who was always a few seconds away.

"Hello Jeannette, Selena… _Miguel_."

As Samuel LeBeau strode up to them Selena felt a nauseating dislike boiling in her stomach. She despised the way he said her father's name. Like it was diseased and allowing it to pass his lips was painful. "Bonjour Samuel. And how are you," Jeannette asked, quickly loosing the joyous light in her eyes.

"I am well, as I see you all are." He passed a lasting glance to Selena. As much as she hated him, she still had to abide by the rules of etiquette.

"Bonjour Monsieur LeBeau." Selena held out her hand and Samuel took it, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. Selena shuddered. She would _always_ hate that custom.

"Beautiful as ever Mademoiselle Selena. We have not seen ous petite fleur in quite some time. You've grown quite a bit yes?" With those words he turned and gave Miguel a cold smile. "And how are you, _Monsieur Miguel_?"

Despite the underlying hostility, Señor de La Cruz answered with a warm smile. "A am well Samuel, thank you. How are things with you?"

Samuel sniffed indignantly at Miguel's familiar use of his first name. "Things are well. In fact the other day we earned just short of a small fortune with our racing stallion." Selena could feel her anger bubbling. The man loved to flaunt his money. "How are things at your police station _Señor Miguel_?" For normal people this question would not be abrasive; however, Samuel was pointing out the fact that Miguel was both a commoner and a Spaniard by mentioning his place of work and by using Señor over Samuel's preferred Monsieur.

At this point Selena was outraged at Monsieur LeBeau's obstinate dislike of her father and was going to say as much, but Miguel beat her to the punch. "Ah, well we get by. However, we still have to clean up a bit of the aftermath of that racing debacle from a few months passed. The people are still upset about that screw up."

Samuel paled. The event in question occurred within a horse race he had sponsored and, therefore, had been his biggest embarrassment. Jeannette covered her mouth to keep from laughing though her yes spoke volumes. Even Isabel giggled a bit. Samuel had run headlong into that pitfall.

Monsieur LeBeau soughed a bit and straightened his posture. "Well, all God's blessings to you then."

"You as well Samuel."

Anger flashed in Samuel's eyes but Isabel, ever the mediator, quickly grabbed her husband's arm. "It was nice to see you Jeannette, but I'm sure you have others to greet yes?"

Jeannette smiled gratefully to her friend. "Yes, in fact, we do. Bet we shall meet you later." Isabel waved goodbye and Samuel turned away in a huff. Selena was sure that he mother was telling the truth. The rules of social etiquette demanded she find and greet everyone she knew and meet knew people. However, those encounters wouldn't be mush better than the first. Some would be monumentally worse.

"Selena," Jeannette said, jarring her from her thoughts. "I want you to go greet the other young ladies outside. Come now ma petite fleur. It will not be as you think it will." Selena frowned in protest. They both knew that the interactions with the aristocratic girls would go precisely as expected. Nevertheless, Selena trudged outside and placed her "haughty mask" in place.

Once outside she greeted a group of gossiping girls who made a show of being excited by her presence. In their time apart Selena had expended quite a bit of energy to forget the names of the surrounding girls. So as time went on Selena spoke only when spoken too and attempted to relearn everyone's names.

When the conversation became too ridiculous for Selena to engage in, she stared off into the gardens, lost in thought. And that's when she saw him, dressed in a dark suit despite the summer sun. He could not have been more than two years older than her by the look of him. He had dark skin the likes of which she had never seen and his hair fell in waves to his shoulders. His eyes fascinated her for an unknown reason and he had a mole just under one eye. He did not yet have the physical fervor of a man, but his boy-like roundness was quickly fading from his cheeks, making way for what would be quite a handsome man.

Selena had noticed her fair share of men, yet she was not one to stare. But there was something about this young man that caught her attention. Not just his features, as nice as they may be, but an air of darkness that seemed to surround him. Selena had inherited an uncanny accuracy when analyzing one's personality, a trait passed down from her paternal grandmother. She sensed a duality to the young man, a darkness and a light. Normally one should take that as a sign of foreboding, but Selena was intrigued.

The conversation had halted as the girls noticed the object of Selena's focus.

"Lord Tyki Mikk.," announced Sarah, or was it Cassidy?

"Huh." Selena replied in a distracted voice.

A couple of girls snickered and Sarah/Cassidy responded with a smile in her voice. "That boy over there? The one you were staring at? His name is Lord Tyki Mikk. He is the brother of Lord Cheryl."

That piqued Selena's interest even more. "Oh? He is the relative of the infamous Earl of Millenium?"

"Ay, he is," Sarah/Cassidy said as she too began to stare at the young Lord Mikk.

Then a rather obnoxious girl decided to interject "Yes, he is of quite _noble_ birth would you not say?" This girl had tormented (or tried to torment) Selena about her mixed heritage from the day they had met. What was her name again? Camille? Stephanie? Gertrude? Tasha?

"He only takes notice of the prettiest, most intelligent, _noblest _young ladies in the land," proclaimed Camille/Stephanie/Gertrude/Tasha.

Selena gave a rather unladylike snort as Camille/Stephanie/Gertrude/Tasha had obviously thought herself all these things when, in fact, she was stupider than a mentally retarded goat. "I never said I wished to draw his attention." It was then that Tyki had finally noticed his admirers. He smiled and waved a glove hand at the merry band of young women. So, the girls took the most reasonable response…

They squealed…

Loudly.

Then they began arguing about to whom he had waved and which dress he would prefer. Selena rolled her eyes and met Tyki's eyes. They locked gazes for a while until he eventually smirked and blew her a kiss. Once again the girls erupted into feminine screams complaining about feeling faint.

Selena had reddened at his action both because of the action itself and the mockery behind it. He obviously thought her to be another one of the giggling idiots surrounding her. She turned away in a huff, swearing that she could hear a bit of his laughter.

* * *

><p>The end of a day was the beginning of a lifetime…<p>

* * *

><p>Author's Note: So starts the romance! I do hope I did a good job, constructive criticism is welcome. There are quite a few French and Spanish phrases in this chapter so I'll go ahead and translate in case you missed the meaning while reading the story.<p>

Maman: endearing term for mother

Ma Petite Fleur: my little flower

Flortia: little flower

Cheveux Comme Les Vagues Noires: hair like black waves

The rest of the words are rather common knowledge. R&R

Mis Amores: my loves

Belleza: beautiful

Corbatín: bowtie

¿Puedes ayudarme mi amor?: Can you help me my love?

Qué bonita: how pretty

Mi Hija: my child

Madre de Dios: mother of god

Ella será fuerte mi amor: She will be strong my love.


	3. A Second Encounter

"Mistress! You'll be late for your appointment! Mistress!"

"Five more minutes Adele. I need my beauty sleep," Selena mumbled sleepily.

"Mistress, you are more than beautiful enough. Not would you _please_ get up? It's nearly ten to twelve!"

"Oh fine Adele, no more need to fuss."

Selena rose languidly from beneath her covers and opened her eyes to see one of her faithful maids standing at her bedside, clothes folded in her hands. The sun shined through her curtains and Selena looked to the window to soak in the beautiful sight.

"Mistress, I've already prepared a bath for you. Please get up. If you don't start getting ready now-"

"I'll be late. I know. But I refuse to get out of bed until you stop calling me 'Mistress.' I've told you time and time again. I hate that title."

"But Mistress! Oh fine! _Miss Selena_ would you hop to it? Please?"

Selena couldn't help but smile. She enjoyed teasing her staff every now and then to keep them from being so terribly uptight with her. She really abhorred being treated like she was royalty. She was just a woman, born unto this earth in the same manner as any of her maids, so why should she ask for better treatment?

Hopping out of bed, Selena took her clothes from her maid and stepped into the bathroom to prepare for a day she did not look forward to. Normally she would wake up around seven o' clock; however, she had an appointment with a stuffy business partner who had no aptitude in business. Idiotic politics dictated their relationship and so Selena could not abandon him as she should. The repercussions would be worse than the misery of his company.

She dressed and fixed her hair, ate and collected her things, then finally she stepped out of her manor and into the stagecoach that awaited her. As she climbed into the coach, she saw her entire staff assembled at the door bidding their mistress farewell and could not help but smile at their loyalty and fervor. God had blessed her with many things even if the world had taken much away. At twenty two years of age she had suffered great loss to be sure, yet she still had so much and was more than thankful to have what she had.

As her coach rode through the city she saw in it a reflection of herself. A sense of duality. There were the poor walking along the streets alongside the coaches of the rich. There were buildings of great height and standing yet they seemed a bit dilapidated on the inside. Some seemed a bit empty despite being full. There was ice due to the winter cold and yet there were fires brewing all around the city. There was sunshine and shadow. There was crying and laughter. How odd it seemed to Selena that so many opposite forces could exist in such close proximity without destroying one another. Yet, that was the beauty and the curse of the city. Was it not?

Before arriving at her ultimate destination, Selena had decided to visit a few antique shops to see if anything of interest would catch her eye. She browsed various establishments and scoped out a few things she planned to return for. She walked the streets of the city, her coachman in close proximity, and interacted with the strange paradox of a village. She played with children; she donated to the homeless; she traded knitting patterns with a few of the neighborhood women.

Once done with her city escapades she dragged her feet to the meeting with her "financial advisor" and discussed many things without actually discussing anything. She played the circular, confusing game of upper class politics with elegance and dignity. No matter how many times she faced the social arena, it would never stop tiring her. Often times she felt more at home amongst the common folk than "her people."

Selena spent a good three hours with a pudgy, pompous man that meant only to cheat and steal from her. One could imagine how frustrating and obnoxious such a situation would be. She left the encounter with a heavy heart and a pounding headache. Her day had been entirely ruined by the meeting and she wanted only for a bed and a warm cup of hot cocoa. Yet, she remembered a particular item she desperately wanted and decided to venture back into the city to retrieve it. By the time she had finished buying her items, it was dark.

"Madam, would you like to return to the manner now? It has gotten quite late."

Selena looked to her coachman and nodded, putting down a children's toy she had never seen before. "I suppose you're right Richard. Chef will be quite amiss if I miss dinner eh?"

"I concur Madam."

With that, she walked out of the little shop with all her items in her arms. As she exited the door she walked right into a passerby. The collision caused her to drop her things and fall to the ground. Selena's coachman quickly went to her side to help her up.

"Are you alright Madam Selena?"

"I'm fine Richard. And are you alright sir?"

She looked up to see who she had run into and quickly apologize. The man staring back at her was none other than Tyki Mikk. She had managed to knock him down as well and he was busy rubbing his head with what looked like pain. When she spoke to him he looked up at her with those eerie golden eyes with what seemed like an apologetic expression.

"I suppose I'm alright. I am terribly sorry. I should have watched where I was going Miss…"

The dark-skinned dandy rose to his feet and peered at Selena intently, going so far as to lean into her face a bit. After a bit he smiled faintly and said "Señorita Selena de La Cruz… Am I right?"

Selena blinked. How did he know her name? Her mother and father were a bit infamous in name around the upper class circles due to their unconventional relationship, but she herself hadn't participated enough in that community in recent years for anyone to really take notice of her. Maybe he learned of her that one time? No, that's ridiculous. They'd stared at each other and not much else. Moreover that was years ago. The fact that she even remembered him was odd in and of itself. And she'd grown considerably since then. How odd…

"Yes, that's correct. And you are, I must presume, Lord Tyki Mikk. Yes?"

Tyki gave a courtly bow to Selena with a smile. "You are correct madam. Or should I say mademoiselle?"

Selena chuckled a little. So he knew of her heritage too? "Either will suffice. I am not particularly picky with such trivial things. So tell me, Lord Mikk, how is it that you know my name? Have we met before?"

"Well, not really. Though you probably don't remember the occasion, I saw you but once at a social event some years ago. I inquired about your name and status."

"Well if this event was some years ago Lord Mikk, how is it that you've retained this information?"

"Hmm…" Tyki rubbed his chin with a contemplative look on his face. "I suppose I always remember beautiful women. They have a certain… infamy in my mind that prevails through all else."

"I can imagine," Selena replied sardonically. Lord Mikk had the looks of a ladies' man. Of course beautiful women would have an "infamy" about them. What a choice of words.

"You, Mademoiselle de La Cruz, committed my name to memory, have you not?"

"Well yes, but you are far more… _infamous_ than I Lord Mikk."

"Heheh, I can imagine."

Selena smiled at their light banter. It had been a while since she had such a conversation with no strings attached. It felt nice. "Well Lord Mikk, seeing as you have offered your apologies I must offer mine. I am sorry I ran into you… Literally that is. I'm afraid I must bid you a fond farewell."

"Must you though? I was going to go enjoy dinner and a local establishment with the hopes of finding some… _infamous_ women; however, I think your company would be much more pleasant."

"Excuse me," Selena asked coldly. If this suave, confident man thought he could just bump into her, sweep her off her feet and lay her to bed he was wrong. She wasn't some pretty, blushing trophy to be won. Even if she was, she could not be won so easily.

Looking embarrassed and apologetic, maybe even a bit surprised at his own idiocy, Lord Mikk raised his gloved hands in apology. "Forgive me Mademoiselle de La Cruz. I have erred in speech. I meant only to say that I would prefer the conversation of an intelligent woman."

Selena studied him with the discerning eye she inherited from the teachings of her father. He did seem genuinely sorry, yet that could be a ruse. He could be trying to trick her still… Yet… There was something about him that was kindred to a dilemma of her own. It seemed he really had just erred in speech. It seemed as though this type of formal conversation was a bit… out of his element in the same way it was out of hers. She had learned the trade only through rigorous practice and she had never liked it. She decided to give him a chance.

Smiling slightly she said "Very well Lord Mikk. I accept your apology with gladness. Tell me Richard, would you mind terribly if I decided to dine with this fine gentleman?"

Richard the coachman, who had remained silent thus far, bowed at the waist saying "Of course not Madam. I am at your disposal."

"Well then Lord Mikk, I think I'll accept your offer. However, how about we get rid of all the formalities? What do you think?"

Having switched to a less formal speech, Selena tests her waters. She observed Tyki closely to see any tale tell signs of relief or disapproval. What she saw a slight loosening of his shoulders and the smile he gave her was genuine. In other words, he seemed relieved.

"I think I'd like that."

The two of them strolled down to the restaurant Tyki mentioned and they were quickly seated and served. They carried on in a bantering conversation sharing minute details of their lives. Where they come from, their hobbies and interests, parties, their families, etc. Soon, however, Selena decided to address a thought that had occurred to her.

"So, why did you really invite me to dinner?"

Tyki brought a wine glass to his lips and sipped its contents, savoring the taste. For whatever reason, Selena found this action fascinating. Then again she found other little things fascinating as well. The way he held a glass. The way his smoked a cigarette. The way he drummed his fingers on the table. "I did tell you before, right? And you do deliver. I enjoy talking with you."

Selena smiled and placed her elbows on the table, propping her head up with her hands. "Oh really?

"Really."

"So it has absolutely nothing to do with the brunette in the red dress to our right?"

With that statement out in the open, Tyki froze, his wine glass stationary at his mouth. His eyes darted to the left and, seeing the girl in red, his attention refocused on Selena. When he placed the glass down he had a crooked smile on his face and leaned back in his chair. "You picked up on that huh?"

"Mmhm," Selena replied sweetly. "Would you mind if I go ahead and guess what your situation is?"

"I don't see why not."

"Here's what I figure happened. That girl over there is a former girlfriend or lover who you probably dumped because she was either too clingy or you lost interest. Maybe a mix of both. When you ended the relationship she didn't want to let you go. You've been trying to get her to realize that you're done with her but she won't accept reality. So, you decided to come to this restaurant, an establishment she frequents, with a woman you've picked up from somewhere to show her that you've officially moved on."

Selena sat back in her seat and quirked a brow at Tyki. "Am I right?"

Tyki had a disbelieving look on his face. The look quickly changed into a look of interest and amusement. "That's about right… How exactly did you figure all that out?"

Selena gave him a radiant smile. She loved to sleuth around. It gave her the greatest sense of challenge and when her results proved accurate she got the greatest sense of satisfaction. However, her favorite part was explaining her process to other people. She was hardly the boasting type, but she enjoyed seeing the astounded looks of others as she relayed her skills.

"First and foremost, I noticed that the woman kept looking your way with what seemed like longing. She also happened to look at me with anger and obvious jealousy. You may be thinking 'How did she see that? She was looking at me the whole time.' I have good peripheral vision. Anyway, when you weren't looking at me I saw you looking at her with something of a familiarity, so I knew you had some connection with her. Also, I know your reputation and based off of what I've seen of you from this night alone, you're the kind of guy a woman gets really attached to. After that everything else fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle."

Tyki brought a cigarette to his lips and took a long drag while observing her over his fingers. When he released his breath he let the smoke wash over the space between them. "So you figured all that out based on hunches?"

Selena shrugged. "Educated guesses."

"So Selena, if women can so easily be attached to me, are you feeling clingy yet," he asked with a sing song voice.

"Mr. Mikk, I think I'd sooner cling to a cactus."

"Funny girl aren't you? Did you pick that up from your father? The intuition that is."

Selena smile wavered a bit when he asked that. She answered him all the same. "Yes. I did. He was an excellent policeman."

"How is he doing?"

"Dead," she replied with a harsh bluntness. She quickly recovered saying "I'm sorry. He, uh, passed away recently… It's… Kind of… difficult to talk about right now." She looked off to the side trying to hide her weakness from this handsome, suave figure. She didn't want him to see her pain.

He looked at her for a while, but then decided to drop the subject and moved on with more pleasant conversation. They continued on as such until the hour grew late and it was time for them to depart. Tyki went his way and Selena went hers. They bid farewell to one another, never expecting to cross paths again. Never expecting much more than stolen glances across large ballrooms…

Never let it be said that fate has no sense of humor…

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Hoorah for chapter 3! I'd like to go ahead and say that the Spanish and French phrases aren't going to be nearly as prevalent throughout the story as with the first chapter. Also, just an fyi, i gave the servants names, but they're not that important. XD Anyhow I hope you enjoy the story wherever it may go. R&amp;R!<p> 


	4. The Commencement

Some weeks after Selena and Tyki's encounter in the city, a meaningful change occurred in Selena's disposition. For years she had removed herself from the high society as much possible due to the various complications and the dangerous intrigue of the upper class. Now, however, she had decided to reimmerse herself in the throng of social activity. Understand, however, that this decision had little to nothing to do with the suave personage of Lord Mikk.

One day Selena sorted through family heirlooms passed down from both sides of her family. She encountered precious stones from her mother's side, meaningful knick-knacks from her father's and everything else in between. Of the relics, the collection of items Selena treasured most was a trove of journals. Both her father and her mother had recorded their thoughts on paper, and, consequently so had Selena's grandparents. She could never bring herself to read those private ponderings, but simply owning the books allowed her to feel a connection to her ancestors; as if a piece of them was still on this earth.

After holding such precious mementos on her hands, Selena began to write in her own diary. At first, the records were infrequent and superficial. She would write about the weather or simply inscribe the doings of her day. Eventually, her entries became daily and her words became meaningful. It is through one of these daily entries that Selena lays her heart bare and comes to her decision. It reads as follows:

_I visited the police office for the first time in a long time. I've no clue what possessed me to do so, but I did. It was nice. I suppose. The men were glad to see me and I them. But at the same time we could not completely ignore what had kept me from them for so long. _

_Being in the building brought me a horrible and glorious sense of nostalgia that cut and healed all at once. They had a picture of Papa._

Here, Selena fought an internal battle: Do I dare continue this thought, or do I flee? She chose to stand her ground.

_It was hard seeing his picture there. It was so hard. His image sat in the very place he died for. He did his duty until the end. That's how Papa was._

Here, Selena stopped. Once again, she had a chance to flee. Tears had begun to cloud her vision. If she stopped she could clear her throat and remain strong. Something within her compelled her to continue.

_I think I should talk about Maman before Papa. Will it be easier or more painful that way?_

Somewhere inside her, Selena wanted to stop. She wanted to hide. She wanted to protect herself from the pain that was sure to follow her words, but the dominate part, the part of her that has waited so long, pushes forward. Her hand continues to scribble furiously, as if overcome by a deluge of emotion.

_I remember that day. I used to sit by Maman's bed and sing to her. I always hated my voice but Maman loved it. I would sing and hope and pray. That day I sat by her bedside and waited. She had grown weaker over some weeks so she slept often. I waited for her to wake up. Saints, how I waited._

_I knew before Papa told me. I knew that I knew, and that's what hurt. Denying it was like trying to convince yourself that the sky is green. Is it possible? Yes. But the truth—that horrible, undeniable truth—seeps through your illusory fantasy. _

_Papa walked in on us. Or should I say me? (When a body looses a soul, do you acknowledge it as a person?) He realized what must have happened from the visage I sported. I don't think it was pained. At the time I was a husk. An empty, hollow husk. So how could my face have been pained?_

_Papa held me in silence after failing to wake her up. Dear God. How that silence haunts me. I was buried in that silence long before we interred Maman. In that silence I was more than vacant. I was void. That silence ruled Papa and I for what must have been hours. But the worse happened when the tears broke free._

_I think now that the silence was a dam. It was odious to be sure, but it held back a menace that was much worse. When my tears fell, I remember an immolating awakening. A terrible rebirth into a world of pain I never thought possible. I'd scraped my knees. I'd broken bones. I thought I'd known pain. I was a foolish child. The pain of the physical was nothing in comparison to the hell I faced that day. At the time I would have gladly accepted any physical pain if only to have Maman for one second more._

_So I bargained and begged to no one in particular while I cried. I offered my every action, breath, and thought to God in the hopes he'd work a miracle. I called on Peter, Mary, Joseph, Job, John, Abraham, and any other saint who would see her at heaven's gates and send her back to me. Papa held me all the while._

_Eventually, the tears stopped but the pain persisted. I passed time in a surreal half-life. The funeral was nice. It was small, intimate. Papa cried. I'd never seen him cry before._

_After a while things got better. Papa and I forced smiles on our faces hoping they would spread to our hearts. We joked and laughed hollow laughs until they became full and true. The cracks of my heart began to mend. But then 2 years later Papa died._

At this point, the gravity of Selena's emotions overwhelmed her. Tears stained the page in various points and her hands shook in an effort to control her pen. Yet and still, she would not—or could not—stop.

_I miss them. Dear Lord in heaven I _

She could go on no longer and, in a fit of grief, released emotions she'd kept contained for too long. After tears receded she returned to the diary, determined to finish her entry and alleviate the burdens of her heart.

_I have become a coward. I don't look at Maman's pictures. I avoid Papa's favorite places in the city. I can't run anymore. I have disgraced my parents by running. No more._

So it was that Selena determined to rejoin the high society. She wished to reconnect with her mother by way of legacy. And what better way to kick off a social return than a grand party?

* * *

><p>After some reconfiguring and reconstructing, Selena had rebuilt her old connections and slid back into the social fold of the rich and well-to-do. Her relations were such that she was invited to a celebration for the coming-of-age of a duke's son. Considering the occasion, the ball was a fabulously opulent engagement. Aristocracy of all walks of life and titles had gathered.<p>

During the first part of the night, Selena mingled and was at her best. She humored and tolerated everything from the most condescending smirk to the most sincere smile. She even went out of her way to congratulate the guest of honor and send her regards to the family. Trapped by conversational protocol, Selena did not manage to disengage herself from the family until after the main event, the ballroom dance, had begun.

By the time she shuffled into the grandiose hall, the music had started, the couples had paired, and the floor was filled with elegantly clad, waltzing aristocracy. Selena, however, chose to stay to the side and observe rather than joining the mass of twirling participants. She stuck to the outer rim of the dance and walked around with a slight smile, playing the part of the wallflower.

"What a waste. Such a gorgeous woman should be in the center of this grand celebration. Not off to the side."

Heaving a somewhat annoyed sigh, Selena turned to a man she did not recognize and smiled as daintily as she could. "Well, in the moment I become gorgeous I shall naturally move to the center, shall I not?"

"You are far too modest my dear."

The man extended his hand to her and, after a moment of consideration, she accepted it. She had planned to enjoy the dance from afar to avoid attracting too much attention; however, why not enjoy herself?

And enjoy herself she did. She didn't exactly steal the show, but the dance tickled her fancy and the unknown man remained quite chaste. She mingled and mixed for a few minutes more before she saw a sight she hadn't expected to ever see again. Who was she kidding? If she ever saw him again she knew it would be with women flocking to his person. Off to the side of the ballroom stood none other than Tyki Mikk, surrounded by two rather… _infamous_ women. They swooped and flew around him like harpies closing in for a kill and Selena could only assume one of them (or both of them) wanted to make off with Tyki before the ball ended. He seemed to be having quite a time keeping them at bay.

"Poor thing doesn't know when to quit," Selena chuckled. She glided over to the conversation already under way.

"Oh Tyki, you simply _must _see me outside. I'm absolutely _drowning_ in this heat," one harpy exclaimed whilst clinging to Tyki's arm.

Tyki, who wore a befuddled, begrudging, and slightly pissed-off expression, chuckled weakly and said "You hardly seemed to be… _drowning_ in heat while you beg- asked me to dance with you."

"Yes, but that was before the dance darling. Now I'm-"

"Oh hush Meredith! You're making a complete fool of yourself," stated a woman in red showing so much cleavage she could pop out of her top at any moment. "If anyone is drowning it heat it is I. After all-" Ms. Lady in Red licked her glossed lips suggestively. "-I am most attuned to dear Tyki's… passion." She ran her hands up Tyki's coat jacket and loosely pulled at his collar before he gently brushed her off. "Come Tyki, let's go outside and… _cool off_."

Selena snickered at the scene and decided to watch the show. This could easily have been the most interesting thing occurring at this point in the ball, and she had no intention of missing it.

"Miss Stephens, I must insist that we stay inside. After all, we shouldn't start any unsavory rumors."

"Oh Tyki, enough with formalities. I should always be Stephanie to you. Those of the greatest pedigree should have no barriers between them. Moreover, I wouldn't mind at all if we were seen doing some… _unsavory_ things."

At this point in the conversation, if you could call it that, Selena nearly had to fuse her lips together to stave off the laughter bubbling just under the surface. Stephanie Stephens? Really? Was this the girl that so ardently attacked and tormented Selena so long ago? Honestly, everything about the girl was overdone to the point of meretriciousness.

"Enough Stephanie! You are just bothering him!"

"And what exactly are you doing? You're just the daughter of a side branch, merchant family after all. What could _you _possibly have to offer my dear Tyki?"

When the description "my dear Tyki" left the upstart's mouth Tyki visibly blanched and disentangled himself from another of Stephanie's none-too-subtle advances. The two girls began to bicker and bark at one another while Tyki could only attempt to stay out of it as much as possible. Eventually, whilst seeking an escape route, he locked gazes with one highly amused Selena. They stared for a moment or two before Tyki gave a meaningful look to the two ladies. He seemed to send a silent "Help me" across the expanse of the ballroom. Selena simply raised her eyebrows sending a wry "Your problem" back at him through their telepathic channel. Tyki's eyes narrowed as he prepared to send some feedback, but the two women bombarded him with demands that he choose one of them and kill the other or some nonsensical comments of the same character.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Selena sashayed into the group of three to rescue the bewildered Lord Mikk. She quickly put on her docile façade and hesitantly spoke over the two bickering women. "Excuse me ladies." At her interjection, the two stopped and regarded her suspiciously.

"Forgive me, but I had hoped to speak to Lord Mikk. I do hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Stephanie opened her mouth to give some biting remark but Tyki hurriedly answered and denied her the chance. "Not at all Selena. Meredith, Stephanie, you know Selena yes? She's recently rejoined our fold and needs a bit of financial aid, so I simply must hear what she has to say. In private?" Selena gave a sheepish nod of her head and inwardly guffawed at the expressions on the two ladies' faces.

"But Tyki," the two exclaimed in harmony.

"Forgive me ladies. It is a matter of dire importance. Perhaps some other time." Tyki locked arms with Selena and nearly dashed to the other end of the ballroom. Before the couple got out of ear shot of the two jealous women Selena quickly stated "One does not drown in heat ladies. One drowns in _water_."

When Tyki arrived at his projected destination he immediately decided that he wasn't far enough away from the crowd of would-be consorts and briskly took Selena to a balcony outside. When Selena closed the doors behind them Tyki collapsed onto the rail of the balcony, took of his ever present top hat, and pushed his hair back slightly, leaving his hand resting on his forehead. Selena watched him with a droll gaze as he heavily exhaled a breath he must have been holding.

Crossing her arms Selena said "Am I ever going to see you without rescuing you from clingy women?"

Tyki looked up at Selena with caustic humor in his eyes. "I hardly plan it that way."

"And so it's not your fault? You're just a victim of circumstance?"

Tyki smiled that entrancing smirk of his and let his ebony hair fall around his face. "You really get how things work huh? That's the curse of handsome men. Always victims of circumstance."

Tyki pulled out his cigarette pack and raised them up for Selena's inspection. "May I?"

"Sure. Cigs don't bother me. I like them 'cause my father used to smoke."

Tyki nodded to acknowledge her comment and lit the cigarette while taking a few calming drags. He exhaled slowly, releasing a large cloud of smoke through barely opened lips. The sight held a certain magic for Selena. She couldn't necessarily say she was attracted to it, but there was just something about the image that compelled her to stare.

After letting all of the smoke to dissipate into the night air, Tyki met Selena's gaze again, that smirk on his lips once more. "I have to thank you for the intervention though. Hell, I'd go so far as to thank your god for that."

Selena puzzled over that phrase while he closed his eyes and continued to nonchalantly smoke. Could he belong to the church of Islam? Is that what "you god" meant? "While it's always good to give God praise whenever there is praise to be given, you might want to acknowledge me first. At least the last time we went through this you fed me."

"Haha. Yeah. I'd say sorry but-" Tyki appraised her in all her vibrantly dressed glory from over the cigarette in his mouth. "-I'm really not. It's good to see you again, beleza."

Selena choked a bit and turned away, hiding a pained expression. "Selena?"

"Ahem. I'm sorry. It's just… My father would call my mother belleza. It, uh, seemed funny to me and I sort of choked on my laughter," she lied. "Is beleza Portuguese?"

For a few moments Tyki just looked at her. She wouldn't meet his gaze for fear that he'd see the raw pain and memories lurking in them. When she finally looked him in the eyes her silent signaled basically stated "Don't go there, please." Tyki quirked a brow, but moved on to say "Yes it is. Do you speak português?"

"Not at all. It's similar to español but-

"-at the same time it's completely different."

Selena smiled. "Pretty much, yes. Now then, I have a question."

"Oh wonderful. That's always a good sign."

Selena strolled over to Tyki and lightly punched him in the arm before leaning next to him on the balcony. "How unlady-like."

"Bite me," she replied, earning a genuine laugh from the amused Lord Mikk. "As I said, I have a question. Why exactly didn't you save yourself from those two… Is there a word for them in Portuguese?"

Tyki chuckled quietly. "I'd call them meretrizes, you'd call them rameras, most people in this country would call them harlots… Or gold diggers. To answer your question, the Earl wants to stay in good relations with them and Sheril likes their parents."

"Ah, I see. Well, as always, being in your general vicinity has been an experience Lord Mikk. I bid you a found farewell."

As Selena got up to leave, Tyki lightly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to him. "Stay for a bit. I've got no one else to chat with right now."

"You could always talk to yourself. Unless, of course, you're afraid you'll start clinging to your reflection Sir Victim of Circumstance."

"Hah! I could really learn to hate you, woman."

"I suppose you could." Selena gave him a knowing smile as she stated with some self-assumed authority "But you won't."

Tyki sighed heavily with theatrical distress. "You're probably right beleza."

The couple spent their night in this fashion and went their separate ways once the ball ended. Tyki managed to convince Selena to meet him once more to make up for the rescue saying that it will be a chaste outing of friends. Once the plans were made, Tyki returned to his family where Road promptly hopped onto his back. "Where have you been Tyki?"

"Out in the ball of course. Where else?"

"Maybe with that little Cruz girl," Sheril replied. "I saw you leave with her and the two of you didn't come back for some time. Could it be you've found someone," Sheril asked in a comically enthusiastic way.

"Geez. Enough with that wife and family dream Sheril. I've no interest." He took a long drag on a new cigarette.

"Well then Tyki," Sheril said with an increasingly grave tone. "Who is that woman to you? You don't treat her like the others."

Tyki took a few seconds before he coolly replied "Just a woman."

Road climbed over Tyki's back to look him right in the eye. "Oh really," she asked skeptically.

"…yeah."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I really want to dive into their romance, but at the same time I'd like to take it slow and let things unfold over many chapters (if I ever update .) Pretty Pretty please review and rate! I'd love some feedback ^^<p>

Foreign Words:

beleza- beautiful (Portuguese)

meretriz- harlot (Portuguese)

belleza- beautiful (Spanish)

ramera- harlot (Spanish)


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